


Fuku Kōchi-chan

by Minga_Pace



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Bad English, Bad Flirting, Bad Writing, Drama, Ex Volleyball Player, F/M, Falling In Love, Fluff and Smut, Harems, Hurt/Comfort, I Blame Tumblr, I Tried, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, I'm Bad At Tagging, Idiots in Love, Jealousy, Love Confessions, Multi, Protective Karasuno Volleyball Club, Reader is 19 yo, Reader is sad, Reader-Insert, Sad and Sweet, You Should Have Come to Shiratorizawa
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-10
Updated: 2020-11-12
Packaged: 2021-03-08 19:01:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,242
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27491614
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Minga_Pace/pseuds/Minga_Pace
Summary: Until you were 16, your life revolved around volleyball, then the accident.Inevitably, in your third and final year, fate drags you back into the clutches of volleyball and its athletes, and they won't let you go.{ViceCoach!Reader x Haikyuu!!}
Relationships: Bokuto Koutarou/Reader, Karasuno Volleyball Club/Reader, Kuroo Tetsurou/Reader, Miya Atsumu/Reader, Oikawa Tooru/Reader, Takeda Ittetsu/Reader, Ukai Keishin/Reader, Ushijima Wakatoshi/Reader
Comments: 3
Kudos: 41





	1. Storm

Loud thunder rumbled through the walls of Karasuno. The black sky, that dreadfully called a bad downpour, lit up for a moment making you jump in the chair you were sitting on.  
  
"A storm is approaching."

Your eyes peered down from the third floor of the Karasuno. Your classroom was located on the top floor and looked directly into the school yard. From there, the students who poured in to face the day were clearly distinguishable.

That year you were assigned to the fifth class and in a sense you were satisfied that you no longer had to ford the football team whose field stood out in front of the windows of your fourth class.

When a professor who was retiring for the day crossed the threshold of the gate, turning the corner, you returned to pay attention to the open page of the English book above your desk.

You whirled the pencil between your fingers, weighing and translating in your mind the question posed under the text that you should have understood that day.

”So, are we ready to read?" the professor asked after having carefully written on the blackboard any meanings of particularly difficult words.  
You ran your eyes on your classmates noting that many hands were raised in the air, ready to speak.

You raised your hand, sure it wasn't too complicated a reading but your teacher selected your classmate from the front.  
  
You lowered your hand casually, returning to pay attention to the gloomy sky outside the window.

That day the weather seemed to suit your black mood. You weren't a cold or listless type, however your literature teacher had the brilliant idea, on the fourth day of school, to ask final year students to write a theme with their own objectives after the long-awaited graduation.

That topic had made you very uncomfortable, making you weigh and weigh your whole life during the other lessons. You even had to ask the Mathematics professor for a further explanation of a limit after getting lost behind another bad thought.

You hated that feeling of emptiness. You thought you would never experience such a thing again after your official retirement from the sport. That sense of oppression that precedes a hard and important decision.

Another flash traveled in your eyes making you jump in place. You frowned and went back to giving your full attention to the boy reading aloud.

You wouldn't have let yourself be distracted yet.

* * *

The school canteen seemed to be full that day. Perhaps the bad weather had forced the students who usually holed up around the school to close under cover.

Despite this, you still managed to win a seat at a table that was slowly emptying.  
  
You open your bento box and at the same time play the game you have been playing on your mobile phone all summer, placing both on the cold metal surface so you can eat and play without problems.

«Shinjuku Dungeon again, (Y/N)-san?»  
  
Your friend's calm, gentle voice reached you anyway despite the confusion in the hall. You didn't lift your eyes from your target as you brought an omelette roll to your mouth with your left hand.

«I have to find the treasure before the special event ends.» you answered with your mouth half full.

The newcomer settled by your side, not disturbing you any further, and moved on to unwrap her bento.  
  
After a couple of minutes of silence you decided to finally give your attention to your friend, lifting your face in her direction.

The black hair seemed to shine even in the eerie neon light of the canteen chandeliers.

«How did it go this morning, Kiyoko-chan?» you asked, dropping your head on the palm of your hand. «You look tired.» you finally watched as it turned towards you.

The eyes behind the thick lenses of the glasses looked tired and shiny but you could only define it after having known your friend for a long time. Kiyoko Shimizu was very good at hiding her emotions.  
  
«Shimizu-san!»

Before she could give you an explanation, someone's shrill voice caught your attention.  
A few meters away, a little boy with a tray in one hand was waving his free arm in your direction. The probable first year had incredible orange hair, certainly a distinctive trait in that rather ordinary school.  
  
However, you have never noticed this before.

Shimizu raised a hand in the direction of the young man making him blush even more than the color of his hair.  
  
A little laugh escaped you that you promptly hid behind your hand already close to your lips.

«Ehh? Another little suitor?» you teased her, pulling your torso slightly forward as if to intimidate the girl with your lewd words. «I'm jealous, _Shimizu-san_.»

As usual, Kiyoko didn't flinch in the slightest as she turned towards you and raised her glasses better on the bridge of her nose.

«You're wrong, he's a new member of the club.»

You obviously knew which club Shimizu was talking about and for a moment your hatred of volleyball was outclassed by extreme curiosity towards the new first year.  
You let your back fall against the chair, peering curiously at the little fellow who tried to see the dishes of the day beyond the line of tall, big students.  
  
«It will be difficult to take Nishinoya-san's place, I guess.» you stated after a while, deducing that the boy would compete for the starting position as Libero.  
  
However, the words that followed from Shimizu's mouth both impressed and effect you at the same time.

«He is a middle blocker.»

Middle blocker. It was a long time since you heard that word. Your stomach did a somersault as a little flash of the volleyball net before your eyes flashed back into your mind.

Your eyes lingered a few more seconds on the red before you could voice your doubts.

«Are you joking? That net is two and forty-three meters high. That boy will be about 5'5.» you were amazed. You remembered how difficult your workouts were and you were taller than him and your training net was also eight inches shorter.  
Kiyoko's eyes lit up for a moment as she watched you look with admiration and singularity at the orange head moving through the crowd.  
  
«You could always come and see it, if you don't believe it.»  
  
Your heart skipped a beat. The wooden parquet, the smell of the gym, the distinct sound of the ball strongly touching the ground.  
The fast descent to the ground after having built a deadly wall, a badly placed foot, immediate pain, surgery ...

«Shimizu.» your eyes wandered over the surface of the table. No matter how curious you were, you promised you would never enter a gym again. The indoor physical education classes alone left you stuck in your throat. You had no intention of going back to suffering.

However, your sudden reasons failed as you thought about that little crow taking off to try and block a ball.

Fortunately, Shimizu understood even before you could come up with an answer.  
«It doesn't matter, but I can assure you he can jump.»

Your friend decided to prevent you from taking her request seriously but for your curiosity to be partially satisfied. You couldn't thank her innate sense of touch enough in unpleasant situations.

"I wish I could see it." You meant, but it would have been too much.

Given your attention still anchored in the world of memories, you didn't feel that someone had approached you only until he spoke.  
  
«(L/N)-san. Takeda-sensei is waiting for you in the teachers office.»

You shook your head and recognized your classmate with a confused frown on your face. Why he summoned you?

«Don't take too long, our lesson starts in a few minutes.» he then warned you, seeing you still firmly seated in your seat. The lunch in the box is not completely finished.  
  
After hastily saying goodbye to Shimizu, promising her that you would eat at some nearby restaurant on Saturday, you made your way to the teachers' lounge on the second floor.  
  
Ittetsu Takeda was your ancient Japanese and literature teacher. It was he who had told you that day to complete a paper on the future.  
  
What future could you ever have? After what you went through, you were no longer certain of anything.

Your world had crumbled before your eyes, leaving you helpless. Just allowing the wind to drag you along.

_Ever since you were a 5 year old, your parents invested in you in a certain sport. There was no reason that led them to choose volleyball. It was a coincidence._   
_«So, which ball do you prefer?»_   
_In front of you 5 balls of small, medium and large size were placed. A five-year-old girl could not even distinguish the sports for which they were made._   
_A soccer ball, a tennis ball, a basketball, a baseball and a volleyball ball._   
_The reasons that led you to choose the volleyball were only two. The soft material that gently caressed the surface of the small palm and the splendid colors that characterized it. Also, (Molten / Mikasa) became your favorite ball brand._   
_When you were 6, you were enrolled in a mini volleyball team. You were quite old despite your age and this led you further to your other peers._   
_Your father, on hot days without schoolwork, would throw the ball at you, making you jump left and right. At the beginning it was difficult to convince you to leave your games to spend some time outdoors to train but when you turned eight your requests to dribble with your father became more and more numerous. You also often received severe headaches from your mother who saw you neglect studying._   
_From the beginning until the end of elementary school, everything seemed to be going well. It was fun playing volleyball with your friends and you could even skip a few days of school under the guise of midweek matches._   
_And then, came the official invitation of the Under 14 from an Italian coach who had come to Japan to find new talents. Your volleyball teacher suggested you right away. You were an exceptional middle blocker, you had excellent height and elevation and you had told the manager that you could do a lot in the national teams._   
_The first year of middle school you joined the volleyball club and were so happy to play and attend school with real friends. However, when they went out and dated, you were always in the gym with the ball repeatedly hitting your hands and arms._   
_«You'll never find a guy if you just keep playing volleyball, (Y/N)-chan.» a friend of yours once told you after you had been silent after an intense conversation about some cute school boys. «Come out with us tomorrow, we want to go to the cinema and Teseo-kun and Kijima-kun will surely come too! It will be really fun!»_   
_And your answer, albeit very contrite, was a dry one: «I'm sorry, but I have training for the Under 14 team tomorrow night.»_   
_You really wished you had a larger social life however it didn't make you too sad as your friends still continued to be your friends and volleyball was your whole life. You wouldn't have given it up for the world._   
_During the two-month summer break, you went to Italy to take the test within the official Under 14 national team and as expected, your training was able to bear fruit. You didn't give up on everything for nothing._   
_However, this only led to one thing._   
_«(Y/N)-chan! We will miss you so much!» wailed the captain of your team, rubbing your wet cheek against your equally full of tears. «Who will help me keep Yumeno-chan on a leash now !?"_   
_You laughed between sobs. «Huh? Will you miss me for that alone? You're cruel!»_   
_Some members of your team were not happy with your departure, decreeing the end of a friendship and a possible strong ally beyond the net but greeted you politely in any case._   
_Your move to Italy was necessary. Training was important with a new team and you couldn't only have three months a year to train with them. This was the first difficult decision the world forced you to make._   
_Your second year of middle school was difficult both at the new school and on the playing field. Everything seemed so difficult. The language, the tasks, the training sessions, the commitment to become a starter as soon as possible._   
_«Mom, dad. I want to go home…» You sobbed after hours of training, too exhausted to get into the shower. You were sitting on the stairs just outside the field while the cold January air ran over your sweaty and bare skin. «Everything is so difficult here, I can't do it alone.»_   
_You decreed, further on, that one of the reasons that had brought you to the breaking point was the distance that separated you from your life in Japan, which you could only see again a week a year. The mental stress that volleyball put on you was no less than what you had already gone through the year before._   
_Despite your now declared defeat, your father told you this: «You can go home whenever you want. We are here waiting for you. But, (Y/N), do you think volleyball is fun?»_   
_At your "Yes" slurred in tears he continued: «And do you really want to give up something that makes you so happy? Keep playing volleyball like you always do, no matter how you climb to success. Just have fun.»_   
_Your parents cared little or nothing that you became the best middle blocker in the world. What they wanted was for you to actually do the thing that made you happiest._   
_And you did just that._   
_In your third and final year, the Under 16 declared you a holder._   
_You played many games and won many. Volleyball had become your light, your way. You would have lived on those wooden planks for the rest of your days._   
_Or at least, that's what you thought._

You knocked lightly on the door of the room, waiting for the clear sign that you could enter without disturbing anyone.

That door managed to strike a tremendous fear. By now you had some reason to think about the possibility that the professor had called you back for your assignment on the future. What you didn't think about was the answer you would give him.  
«Come.»   
You pushed the sliding door with your left hand, letting your head enter the room a little. There weren't many professors and those few seemed to be engaged in their jobs rather than paying attention to you.  
  
«Oh, (L / N) -san. Come on ahead.» 

Your head turned in the direction of the gentle voice some desk away and you smiled cordially yet tense. You crossed the door and closed the sliding door behind you so as not to cause annoyance to others.

When you arrived in front of Takeda-sensei's desk, your face twisted in bewilderment. The light surface was covered with small sheets and a few coffees placed and abandoned there for who knows how long.

Your smile turned into a grimace. «Can I do something for you, sensei?»

You would never have believed that such a precise man in literature was so terribly messy in his work plan.

The man seemed to notice your glances and tried with one arm to slide the least worst farther away from your life as if doing so solved something.

«Forgive the mess but the volleyball club is really a commitment.» laughed nervously the man with wavy hair, putting a hand behind his head as if he were embarrassed.  
  
One thing you certainly thought about Takeda Ittetsu was that he was a great teacher but too nice and kind to watch that mass of aggressive sportsmen. You knew the sporting environment well and you wondered why your professor had not yet ended up under the ravenous beak of those crows.  
  
«Don't worry.» you went crazy trying to maintain a certain sense of respect. «Just in a few minutes I have a lesson in Domestic Economy and I can't be late.» 

Takeda-sensei seemed to come back down to earth after your last remark and hastily nodded as he juggled the papers left on the desk, mumbling something in the meantime.  
«Ah, here it is!»  
Crumpled and straightened as best you can, a pre-filled sheet lay in front of you that you should have completed yourself in the blank spaces.  
  
With a raised eyebrow you reached out your hand, grabbing the sheet from the opposite end and bringing it to your face to observe it better.

«You know, (Y/N)-san ... I can call you by your name, right?»

You looked away to lay it on the professor who had so warmly and sweetly called you by name, barely nodding.  
  
«The volleyball club needs a coach.»

At those words you froze on the spot. Incredulous, you stared at the volleyball club registration form as an assistant. Takeda couldn't know, right? You didn't even tell Shimizu ...  
Before the professor continued your cold but broken voice made him retreat.

«Sensei...» you pushed the paper away from your face, letting your limp arms fall to your sides. Why did they have to intrude? Were they still not satisfied with your hard work at school? «Who exactly told you I wanted to be a volleyball coach?»

Why everyone...  
  
Your eyes were steady but filled with irritation. As much as you wanted to cry you wouldn't have, not yet. Not again.  
  
Takeda looked slightly uncomfortable at your tone and just as you were ready to receive a sonorous lesson for your arrogance, her expression softened before your eyes leaving you stunned and your mouth slightly open to his apprehension.  
  
«Your parents called a few days ago. It was for this reason that I requested that theme today.»

You wanted to scream. Yelling at everyone who didn't understand, that they never would. That they had no reason to meddle in your life. That people like them would never know the pain of seeing something you love slip out of your fingers despite your firm grip.

You didn't mean to say that. You didn't want to hate anyone but yourself. You didn't want to become the annoyed and disturbed student who didn't want anyone's help. You just wanted to be left alone. They had no right...

«Forgive my frankness, sensei, but that doesn't concern you at all.»

The sad frown on the professor's face broke your heart more than it had already made you hear those words. The intervention of your parents meant that they had seen a weakness in your armor. It meant you put pressure on them, they worried. You didn't want this. You didn't want someone to feel bad for you. You worked so hard.

«I see. If you don't want to do it, that's right. But...» Takeda looked seriously in trouble finding the right words and expressing what he wanted. But most of all, he didn't know if his next words could move or upset you more.

«Didn't you have fun when you were on the playground? Even after your accident you can still-»  
  
«Thats enough!» you didn't scream, or so you thought, yet the faces of several professors pointed at you as if you had just spit out a curse.  
  
«(L/N), shouldn't you be in class by now?»  
It seemed your music teacher was somehow disturbed by your impertinence.  
You weren't a violent or impertinent student. You wondered who took your place at that moment.

Your eyes trembled as you bowed your head and torso to Takeda-sensei, in deep regret. The tears were threatening to fall and you still didn't know how long you would hold them back.  
  
«I'm sorry, I shouldn't have. I don't know what's wrong with me.»  
  
Did you really get that cold to everyone? Is this how your classmates, your professors, your friends, your family saw you?

The professor's warm hand rested on your shoulder giving you comfort and when you brought your eyes back to him there was no hint of hatred or irritation. Just a lot of apprehension.  
  
«You're young, (Y/N)-san. You have time to determine who you are. It doesn't matter if you go slowly, the important thing is that you don't stop.» with a smile he pointed to the paper still clenched in your hand, inadvertently closed to a clenched fist. «Keep that, think about it.»

Before he could say anything else or that another of the professors got irritated by your presence, you quickly apologized and ran out the door and down the corridor.  
  
After about ten long steps, your ankle vibrated and with a lump in your throat you blocked yourself continuing to walk with your head down.

By now the students were all in their own classrooms so you had nothing to worry about. Tears rolled down your cheeks just before you entered the girls' bathroom on the floor.

With a heavy step you approached the mirror and instead of looking at yourself, you collected a handful of water from the tap you had just opened and sank your face into it, letting the pure water carry away the salty tears on your cheeks.

You repeated the same process four more times and when the tears finally stopped. You took a piece of paper while watching the drops fall into the ceramic bowl.

You wiped your face thoroughly, tucking the little wet wisps behind your ears and tossing your handkerchief into the trash can before you left.

The deserted corridor accompanied your thoughtful head to your classroom, a detached, lifeless look in your eyes.  
  
«Sorry I'm late, I've been summoned to the teachers' lounge.»  
  
The professor nodded and motioned for you to enter quickly. With decision you closed the sliding door behind you while in the sky the light of a flash illuminated everything. The thunder vibrated through the walls as you sat in your seat and your face turned outwards.  
  
Then, slowly, as if he had stayed long enough, it began to rain.


	2. Karasuno

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The words of your parents and those around you begin to influence you.  
> Meanwhile, you make meetings dictated by destiny and realize that volleyball will never completely abandon you.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone, this is the second chapter of the fanfic that I managed to finish this evening.  
> In this chapter there will be some anguish and sadness but always purely self-inflicted.  
> We have a very emotional reader.  
> Enjoy the reading.

The next day seemed to continue like the one before. With the incessant heavy rain banging against the window and the wind violently attacking the bushes just outside your garden, you reluctantly asked your mother to drive you to school.

You were having a hard time catching the bus and knew it would be packed with students because the gloomy day. Many used to go by bike but you strongly thought that no one would have dared to attempt a climb in that weather.

Your parents, the year before, allowed you to get your driver's license if you had good grades, however you could have taken the car only after high school.

You didn't complain. Your parents both worked in Miyagi and you only had one car available as your father was also used to working from home in video conferencing.

When your mother's shrill voice called you from the lower floor for breakfast, you looked away from the outdoor scenery and walked over to your desk to grab your bag and cellphone.

Leaving the room, it was as if the whole environment had frozen.

The air was tense in your house after the violent quarrel you had the night before with yours.

_«Why do you have to interfere in my life?»_ you yelled at they.

You went down the stairs as slowly as possible as if delaying your presence would change something in the mood of the house.

_«Because we are your parents!»_

When you reached the corridor that escorted you either towards the exit door or towards the kitchen, you paused to look at the empty and cold wooden shelf.  
A pic of your hand hitting hard on the family photo resting on it flashed before your eyes as your voice still seemed to vibrate within the walls saying: « _I don't care!»_

Your eyes narrowed, guilty. Volleyball seemed to bring the worst of the worst out of you. You thought you'd never have outbursts like two years ago again. You thought you had overcome it healthily.

But it was still there. The infinite pain of a shattered dream.

«Good morning, darling.» your father's warm voice reached you as you entered the dining room. He was sitting comfortably in his usual post, in a suit and tie. He probably should have gone to town that day.

He looked at you with his usual goodness and cheerfulness and you realized you were unable to look him in the face.  
«'Morning.» was your silent greeting.

Breakfast passed in complete stillness. Nothing to declare.

You told your mother that would wait for her in the car, so that you could get out of that house as soon as possible. It seemed to engulf you in your guilt.

The journey to the school was also silent. Your mother stole glances from you, like trying to figure out what you were thinking but she didn't seem to risk anything.

«See you tonight after private lessons." you said, opening the umbrella just beyond the car door and stepping out into the cold air.

Obviously, one thing you threw yourself into was the extra classes that took place at the private school in Miyagi center. Sure, you would have preferred to follow the jukus in English in Tokyo, but Shiratorizawa certainly lacked quality in that sense.

You looked up at the dark interior of your umbrella, blissfully listening to the raindrops pattering gently. You loved the rain. From inside your warm gym after intense workouts, watching it gave you strength. You could inadvertently feel it on your skin as it swept away the fatigue.

When you passed by the bus stop not far from the school a groan took you by surprise.  
You strongly wanted to ignore the hidden figure out of the rain but his gray hair forced you to give him your full attention.  
The students were heading quickly towards the entrance so the area was now almost empty.

«It doesn't seem to want to stop eh...»

The boy sighed again looking around and when he noticed your still figure behind him he met your gaze.

You opened your eyes wide, immediately recognizing that clean face. You never expected Sugawara Koshi to be a forgetful type.

«AH!» he pointed at you with his finger, making you frown. «You are Shimizu-san's friend.»

You blinked, wondering where he actually saw you. You knew the members of the volleyball club because they had made several statements in two years before the interlude. But you had never seen any of their matches, much less training.

«Y-yes. I'm (Y / N) (L / N).» you bent down politely, not forgetting to protect yourself with an umbrella. «Don't you have an umbrella?» you asked immediately after, discreetly probing his hands.

The boy ran his fingers through the light hair, pulling a wet lock in front of him, blushing with embarrassment at your legitimate question. «Looks like I forgot it on the bus. I couldn't get noticed as he walked away.»

You didn't understand why but the sight of a Sugawara waving his hands in the rain seemed to amuse you. Perhaps that was why you were able to return to your mild and calm state.

«If you want I can give you a ride under mine.» you looked up again, twisting your mouth. «Even if I don't know how much it will cover us...»

«Thank you very much, (L / N)-san!» he put his hands in front of his face and approached you. You thought you would have carried the umbrella on the way, however Sugawara slipped it from your hands.

For some reason you suspected your shoulders would get wet but the guy seemed to be paying more attention to you than to himself. You thought out of gratitude and for the help offered.

When you reached the shoe lockers at the entrance, Koshi thanked you again as you told him it wasn't a problem.

«By the way!» his soft but above normal voice took your attention away from the shoes you were slowly arranging in your compartment. «I'm Sugawara Koshi, from the volleyball club!» smiled as he approached you. «I've seen you a few times in Shimizu's class. That's why I recognized you.»

Come to think of it, you had shared your bento many times in your friend's class. You turned around, continuing to put your shoes in the compartment and close.  
«If I'm not mistaken you are not in Kiyoko's class,» you ventured, shooting him a satisfied smile as he snapped like a thief caught red-handed. «Are you a stalker, Sugawara-kun?»

The one in response only started blushing violently as he rubbed his school jacket and sobbed something like "I just happened there" and "my class is on the same floor". He liked you a little. For someone who panics so easily you would never have thought he fulfilled the role of setter.

Your eyes lit up with a spark of curiosity as an amused smile replaced your evil grin.

«I'm kidding, Sugawara-kun.» certain that by now it was just close to the sound of the bell, you raised the black bag on your shoulders and retired. «Good lesson.» you finally decreed, raising a hand to greet him.

* * *

The lessons turned on the program as usual. There were no dialogues or interruptions that could divert the students' attention for a moment.  
After all, the fifth grade was one of the most difficult classes in the institute. It gave clear and precise preparation for university exams and their complicated entrance tests.  
Many said that the tests were more difficult than the exams themselves and you had begun to fear them a little. You absolutely could not fail.

You were bent on a chemical transformation, trying to memorize and understand the complex processes that characterized it when a student approached you almost uncomfortable.  
«Can I help you?» you asked, pulling yourself straight into the chair again. You used to have a bad habit of bending over your homework.

«Y-You are (Y / N) (L / N)-sanpai, right?» she was literally slaughtering her nails as she looked at you. Seriously, what impression were you giving to people?

«(Y / N) is fine, and you?» you were trying to make her more comfortable even though you weren't very used to all that attention.

«Kaori Abe, class 2-3!» and pulled out a blank sheet of paper so fast that if you hadn't pulled back at the same time it would have hit your poor nose. «J-Join the gardening club, please!»

The coincidence of the name Kaori and the garden club almost made you laugh but somehow you managed to hold back. It wouldn't have been very nice and you felt as if the girl would have exploded with another dose of embarrassment.

In fact, you haven't joined any clubs yet. How did the students know about your condition? High school was really scary sometimes.

You pulled the sheet out of Kaori's hands, giving it a quick look. Usual fields to fill in and any information about the club.

«I'll think about it, Abe-san. I also have extra evening courses so I don't know how much time I will be able to devote to the club...» You didn't want to refuse the invitation immediately. A club would have been forced to choose it, maybe it would have been a good fallback but you didn't want to deceive it so soon.

Although your words had been rather hesitant, the young woman seemed to be reborn as if you had just yelled at her a complete assent.

«Yes, sure. You can look for me in class when you have decided.» she turned towards the door where your classmates were pouring in, ready for the new lesson, and she was agitated again. «W-Well, I think it's time for me to go too. Thank you very much, (L / N)-san.» and ran away.

It wasn't more than two minutes before the English teacher also showed up in the classroom to resume the topic interrupted the day before.

At that time you had tried to pile up the idea of the club but your head was inexorably returning to that decision.

_"Didn't you have fun when you were on the playground?"_

Takeda-sensei's words were slowly tearing you apart. You obviously enjoyed it, it was a stupid question to ask. It is precisely for this reason that you didn't want to go back. Knowing you couldn't play anymore would have split you in half.

But yet…

The bell rang, decreeing the long-awaited break for all the students.

«(L / N)-san, did you by chance come up with the last answer?»

The question turned blank as you simply handed your transcribed book to your classmate. Your eyes were eagerly on the assistant coach question and the gardening question.  
You couldn't understand all your indecision. The choice was simple. Why would you have to change your beloved routine after three years? Everything was fine. Right?

Right?!

Ignoring the questions of your counter neighbor, you got up from your desk, headed for the exit.

You necessarily had to feel that overwhelming feeling of helplessness again or that lump in your throat would never go away. Maybe you would have gone back to the old one and no one would have looked at you strangely again. Or that expression as if to say "poor thing".  
You ignored the cry of your heart that was asking you desperately not to do it, to stay where you were, not to hurt it again. But your legs just quivered and without realizing it you started running down the aisle, jumping steps as if the fear of smashing to the ground didn't matter as the students you met were giving you confused and amused looks.

When you passed the last flight of stairs, the unmistakable metal door appeared before your eyes. But you couldn't stop, not yet.

How many times had you passed through that door without even giving an eye or ear to what was hiding behind it?!

You reached out and gripped the sliding door until it moved with an eerie iron clatter.

The scent of wood and rubber invaded your senses. You didn't need to open the eyes that you had closed out of effort and fear. That perfume could only belong to that gym.

Your fearful eyes focused on the center of the room. In all its glory the volleyball net not yet as high as it should be was slowly calling you.

You took a few steps, not caring that you were entering without trainers, while the wooden floors ticked beneath you.  
Your hand almost automatically went to the lever that raised the net until it was correctly straight and high. You used to do this a lot even though the recruits wanted to take care of it for you.  
You let your fingers run over the squares of rope as if you had just met up with an old friend of yours. You had forgotten the rivalry that inspired that barrier. The sense of anguish when you jumped that shouted at you not to touch the net, to block the opponent's ball in the most effective way possible but also taking care of what divided your team from the other.

You turned the wall of the gym and advanced along the field. Abandoned in the corner, an old Molten ball jumped in your eyes. In a way you felt like that ball. Stand at a corner watching for who knows how long...

Hoping someone would pick it up. Hoping to play another game once again.

The ball swirled in your hands as you settled on the baseline.

Why did this happen to you? What did you do wrong to deserve to be removed from the place you loved most in the world?

You rested your forehead against the surface of the ball, regardless of how dirty and worn it was.

Didn't you sacrifice a life to be on that field? Did you really sacrifice everything for nothing?

«Forza! Un'altra! (Come on! Another one!)»

You could hear your U16 team mates yelling at you to repeat another serve. You could see them give you strength with their kind smiles and funny Italian words.

«Fai un fottuto buco sul pavimento! (Make a hole in that fucking floor!)»

Your lip trembled but your eyes remained closed preventing the tears from flowing again.

_"Ah, he's calling me. The referee blew his whistle."_

Throw the ball in the air, distancing it from you just right. You watched its rotation in the air and it was as if everything went in slow motion. How would you feel on your hand after the impact? Satisfaction for having let it cross the net or anguish for having made a mistake?

You stretched your arms out behind you, ready to give you the right momentum for the jump.

It didn't seem important at that moment. What mattered was to hit it and then ...

«OHI!»

Your feet froze even before they leapt into the air, scraping cruelly against the wood. You turned your head towards the sound, blushing and as you opened your mouth to justify yourself the ball fell violently on your head causing you to bite your tongue.

You moaned, putting a hand to your mouth, the tears you had previously held back, at that moment free to flow from the pain.

«Fuck, it hurts!» you complained as you glanced at the boy standing at the door. Your redness only began to increase as you recognized the subject. It was obvious that the team captain must have seen you in that pitiful state.

You gathered all your pride and what little self-esteem you had left and advanced towards the exit.

«Training! Training!» the orange head popped out of the iron door and leapt onto the volleyball court like a spring.

In surprise, you stopped in your footsteps while another black-haired boy followed the boy with a gloomy and meek expression.

«Think about heating first, boke.»

When you looked away from the two, the door was now completely blocked by the Karasuno players looking at you in confusion.

Your heart was beating furiously so that your hand automatically approached your chest, as if fearing it would pop out at one moment or another.

From behind Sawamura Daichi, Sugawara's curious head appeared. His eyes lit up as he recognized you openly.

«Oh, (L / N)-san! Did you come looking for Shimizu-san?»

In a way, you still couldn't get the words out. All you could do was make eye contact with the captain of the Karasuno. He seemed not to want to let you go as he looked at you.

«(L / N)?» when Daichi said your name it was as if it reminded him of something. «That (L / N)? The professional U16 player?»

The last question was very doubtful, as if the captain couldn't believe it. After all, he'd just seen you get a serve over your head.

Another head peered over the already bulky bodies of the two boys and watched you carefully.

«A-A fan ?!» he shouted excitedly as he tried to push Suga away from the door so he could see better. «I knew that sooner or later they would recognize our worth!» immediately whimpered on the shoulder of his companion who shoved him away.

Fortunately, the story had averted the captain's gaze and you managed to breathe a sigh of relief by resuming your usual calm.

«I'm sorry I came in.» you murmured, leaning over in apology. «Excuse me.»

You started to leave, approaching the huge bodies of the players, when a tired and sweaty Ittetsu Takeda appeared in front of you.

«Guys, listen to me for a moment!» then his gaze fell on you. «(Y / N) -san?»

Although his eyes had turned on you, putting you back in an uncomfortable position, those on the team seemed eager to know what good news the professor was bringing.  
A feeling of pressure hit your shoulders and you wondered how that professor could handle their strength.

«Yes, sensei?» Daichi asked, taking Takeda's attention away from you.

«O-Oh, yes! We do it, don't we? The Golden Week retreat?»

Sawamura agreed as the others nodded with conviction.

«Well, for the last day of Golden Week, I...» and he raised a finger in the air dramatically. «I've organized a training match!»

Excited and surprised sighs released in the gym. Your gaze fell on the professor's figure as a smile spread across your face. Takeda-sensei really must have been doing a lot for this team.

«WOW! You are really reliable, Take-chan!»

" _Take-chan?"_ you laughed, while the bald boy looked at the professor with admiration.

The professor explained that the match they would play would be against the Tokyo school, Nekoma.

Sitting there listening to the debate took you longer than expected. Didn't you notice that for a moment, at the mention of a practice match, your muscles stiffened and fists clenched along your sides. But Takeda-sensei did not escape.

When the attention was finally fully immersed in training, it was time to put your escape plan into action.  
You turned your back, ready to leave when Takeda walked up to you again.

«(Y / N) -san, you came then.»

You looked up at him. The times you had seen him in overalls were rare.

«I'm sorry, sensei, but I was just coming to take a look. I have no intention of-»

« **To me!** »

The scream made you shiver in your arms. The hair stood on end at the back of your head as all your nerves forced you to give all your attention on the pitch as if you were vaguely threatened.  
Like a real crow with wings, the little boy with orange hair jumped higher than you ever would have jumped in your life. He looked so comfortable, as if his body was perfectly used to that movement.

The ball spun in the air for a few milliseconds as it landed in the black-haired setter's hands.

Then it all happened in an instant.

The ball smashed violently against the parquet with a strong Kaboom and at terrifying speed as the boy fell to his feet in front of the net.

«Great, Hinata!» shouted the companions.

Still stunned by the action, you paid little attention to the smug look of the professor as you analyzed ~~the little boy~~ Hinata, who was advancing again at the end of the field.

«Hinata, huh?» you murmured. «He really knows how to fly.»

He had remedied his low height with strong momentum and a monstrous elevation. You didn't know anyone who harnessed all that power. Now you could understand why it was a middle blocker.

«The first years boys will be an excellent resource for the team this year. Aren't you curious to know how much they can still improve?»

Assenting or lying would have been like admitting that you really needed to verify their improvement so you opted to keep quiet by observing the precise lifts the setter offered his hunters.

Where the hell had Karasuno caught them?

«(L / N) -san,» Takeda turned to you as if he were addressing his peer, attracting your full attention again. «I need your help with something.»


End file.
